


Wildest Dreams

by emperoxgrayland



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A Hollywood Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Co-workers, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Slow Burn, You'll suffer but you'll be happy about it, prior relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23010001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emperoxgrayland/pseuds/emperoxgrayland
Summary: She knew he was only something she borrowed. In the way that his eyes fidgeted around their surroundings before taking her hand. In the way that they kept their heads down, and hoods up. In the way that they had to find the world's most secluded bar in the tiny French town they were at.But she didn't mind. Especially when his hand, much bigger than her own, wrapped around hers and made her feel like she wasn't alone. Finally. At last.---Rey Johnson had it all - cast in the newest mega-franchise, magazine covers left and right, her career that she had worked hard to build was finally taking off. The world is her oyster and she can have everything she wanted.Except for Ben Solo. Her co-star. Her red flag, off-limits, don't even think about it co-star.It's a shame that he's everything she ever wanted in her wildest dreams.It's a shame she's willing to risk it all, for a moment to be his.(The burn is so slow it hurts, but it will all be worth it in the end)
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	Wildest Dreams

She knew he was only something she borrowed. In the way that his eyes fidgeted around their surroundings before taking her hand. In the way that they kept their heads down, and hoods up. In the way that they had to find the world's most secluded bar in the tiny French town they were at. 

But she didn't mind. Especially when his hand, much bigger than her own, wrapped around hers and made her feel like she wasn't alone. Finally. At last. 

She didn't mind in the way his lips curved up, in the way it almost never does when he sees her emerge from her hotel room that she hasn't slept in from the moment they got here, in her tiny blue gingham dress, with it's short skirt and exposed sliver of skin at her midriff, her dark hair in a tail, her lips painted a bold red. 

If it was only borrowed time, then she only has one rule - he has to remember her, in this dress with these lips. He has to remember that for a short second he was hers and no one else's.

"See something you like Solo?"

His lips quirk up into that wicked smile before his lips duck down to hers, his hair, long and curling around his princely face brushing against her cheeks. "You're my wildest dream, Rey."

He whispers against her skin, and she wishes, not for the first time, that she could be his reality. 

\---

They were a cliche, really. Nothing could be said about it. 

He was the older super star, brilliant, bold, an all consuming vacuum whose gravity rearranged everything around him. 

No one warned her about him, because he was married, devoted to his wife and kind. 

No one warned him about how he was tall. Not extremely so in the way of basketball players, he was 6'3" at best, there were other men who were taller, but he was massive. In the way other tall men aren't. He was beautifully broad in his shoulders and chest in the way that speaks of his build but not overly so - not in the popping way body builders are because he still had beautiful symmetry in his form, as if he was just born massive, as if he was carved out of marble by the most loving of gods and breathed into life. 

And he was handsome. There never was a man who fit the word more beautifully. Handsome didn't mean this new pretty boy definition in Hollywood. His ears were too large, as was his nose, and he had a weak chin. But together they created a beautiful handsome face, the face of a brooding hero, overlooking a moor. Of course the honey color of his eyes, and the way his hair curled around his face, thick and dark and nothing short of princely - completed the look and perfected it. 

He was wickedly bad. But he does it so well no one notices it. 

They all think he's a serious actor, nominated up to his eyeballs for countless projects, each of his roles as versatile and as different from the one before it. Here was a man who could not be type casted. 

He was from Julliard, he made himself out from nothing. 

He was everything she wanted to be. 

He was a supernova shining through the night, and she a mere moon, a mere planet, attracted to his orbit, forever cursed to revolve around him. 

She didn't know how it began really. 

She was twenty two, and this was her first film. 

She didn't know up from down and left from right. 

And he was always aloof, reserved and quiet. He was nine years older than she was, and he played a villain. He was the villain. They didn't share that many scenes and he didn't particularly like to hang out with the cast. 

"Hi. I'm Ben." He muttered when she extended her hand to him at the first table read.

"Rey, it's so exciting to be here."

He merely gives a nod before awkwardly shuffling away to stand alone in some corner.

Throughout the read she can feel his eyes on her, skimming over her skin, the sides of the tank she wore straight from the gym to here. 

She can feel his stare burn, and when her eyes met his, and he doesn't look away, she knows. 

This will not end well for her.

\---

They spar. It was only right. She had been training in London prior to flying here for filming. 

He was in a white tank, and if she thought he was big before, he was even more now. 

His hair was flinging poetically around his head as he executed complex moves, his arm swinging wildly, the moves fluid and light for someone as massive as him. Each thrust forceful and heavy. 

She feels herself getting wet.

He was beautiful. So beautiful like this, and when he sees her, when he spies the slim saber in her hand, unlike the cross guarded version he had, he smiles. And there is something predatory there. 

The saber was heavier than expected, because they wanted the lights there to reflect off their faces. 

It was like a broad sword and her arm was singing by the end because Adam attacked her with the full brute force of his height and a long hard thing that can cause damage and she felt genuinely afraid at his invasion of her space. 

"Rey."

His voice, deep and husky and all sorts of delicious call to her from the sidelines.

"Ben?"

"Do you... would you want... a bite?"

She cocks her eyebrow and nods, and they walk in silence to the local burger place.

"We won't be able to do this. Not after the movie comes out."

She laughs as he bites into his burger as if it would moo and run away from him and she nibbles at her own food. 

"I'm surprised you can, isn't your TV show big in these parts of town?"

He shrugs and shakes his head. "Nah, not that famous yet. But after this who knows."

"You'll be famous for sure." She says after nabbing a fry from his tray to his annoyance. "I'll just be a girl on the street."

"Nah, you're too pretty to be just a girl on the street."

She chokes on the fry and his ears flush pink against his hair. 

She gobbles her burger for fear of saying anything else. 

\---

"He's a little bit method. Not excessive, not enough to be an asshole to people around him, cause he's like the nicest guy ever, doesn't cause much trouble for anyone but when he's filming intense scenes he likes to be in the zone. I guess all his scenes are intense." Poe Dameron mentioned. They went to Jullliard together, though Poe in an earlier batch than he was in. And they did a film together. 

All in all he was well liked, he was funny in a dry, acerbic way, his smiles rare and few in between but they were magnificent when they come. They relax the furrows he perpetually had at his brows, loosens the harsh pout he holds his mouth in and the storms in his eyes brightens, clears and he becomes an entirely different person, light and beautiful. 

She was desperately curious about him. And so was everyone around them. Everyone was a little star struck, a little in love, regardless of age and gender. To make him smile was like a lifetime achievement. 

And she supposes it was. Life on the set was a microcosm. It was like she was living in a fantasy world for the most part. She woke up, went to make up and lived the rest of her day as Daisy - a scavenger archeologist from the dunes of the Jakku desert. The new heroine of Battlestar: Infinity. She was meant to be built up as a nobody, strong in the Force who resurrects the new line of Infinity Warriors together with John, who was played by Finn. John used to be a soldier for the enemy First Order who took over when the last of the Infinity Warriors died out. He was also the first person of color to be casted in such a pivotal role. 

She liked her cast mates. Even Finn, even if he was a tad bit too touchy with her. 

The only person she could not get a handle of, was Ben Solo. 

Ben Solo who played Adam, the mysterious leader of the First Order.

And so on the day they were to shoot their scene together, one of the three they have, she was a nervous wreck. 

The only time they ever did this scene was doing the table read, from long ago, and man was she horrible in that, that at the end he gave her such a questioning look as if thinking if she should be here before shrugging and moving along with the story. 

So she was stood in the middle of a forest set, where she was supposed to stand, fearful of the mighty Adam before he takes her for a hostage. 

It was easy, she just had to stand there, frozen, while Ben did the rest of the work. All she had to do was faint into his arms. 

When she walked into the set he merely greeted her with a quiet hello as they stood at their marks. 

"Forget the droid we have what we need." He says in his voice muffled under the helmet and she took that as her cue to fall in his arms. 

She gasped as his arms wrapped around her torso, his large hands nestling underneath her breast and his other arm around her knees.

He grunts as he hefts her up and their director, Jar Jar Binks calls cut. 

"Rey! You have to fall sideways, we can't get a clear shot of your face."

A stunt coordinator comes and works on the mechanics of how exactly she'll fall and where Ben has to pick her up for good camera angles. 

"We're looking at around 7 takes here Ben, you okay?"

He removes his helmet, where he looks flushed and sweating underneath it and blows a breath. 

"Yeah, yeah, no problem."

She takes pity on him, knowing he almost has no visibility, and that it was sweltering under his weird cowl-y dress costume. 

"I'm not that heavy right? I mean, I have only been consuming rabbit food to prepare for this?"

His eyes flick over to her, running up and down her form clad in her scavenger wraps and he grins, his eyes taking on a wicked glint. "Yeah you're alright. For a baby pig."

It takes a second for the joke to register and when it did she laughs, loud and impressed. She didn't know Ben Solo bantered. 

And she didn't know the dangers that was behind that door. 

But once open she couldn't help herself. She was only Icarus, and he the sun.

She giggled as she fell, trying hard to pretend that she wasn't itching and burning at the apex between her thighs every time his fingertips brush the swell of her breasts as he hefts her up. 

It's made worse when Jar Jar has the brilliant idea to get him to climb up a ramp into the ship with her dead and heavy in his arms. 

"Fuck it. Fucking director. If this fucking scene gets cut I will fucking kill the fuck out of him in his motherfucking sleep. The fucking bastard."

She resists the urge to chuckle, she really does because he's huffing and puffing and trying hard not to trip with her in his arms and he can't see anything. 

"You think this is funny scavenger?" He asks in a low dark tone that really has her gushing down there and she hopes she doesn't cream her way into her pants. 

"Oh you do, don't you. Naughty girl. I ought to punish you."

There was teasing in his voice as his hands tighten around her and damn she's wet and aching now, the things this man can do to her. 

"How can you? You can't even see where you're going?" She arches against him, so his fingers bump one breast and he falters in his hold of her, sending them almost tumbling to the ground, if he didn't restabilize himself and she giggles as he coughs. 

She wonders if the red flush creeping up his neck stains his cheeks. 

\---

When they film her first emotional scene she was terrified. 

She couldn't tap into her emotions, the lights were too bright and everything felt too constrained. 

"It's okay. Take your time. Just breathe. You'll get there."

He was maskless now, and she didn't even have to fake the stunned admiration that poured from her eyes when he first revealed his face. 

But this part, her being forced to relive her trauma, while pushing this man out of her head, this was a bit tougher. 

"Just... keep your eyes on me, okay? Just you and me. Adam and Daisy, I mean." He corrects sheepishly as she sighed and resisted the urge to storm out because it took forever to chain her to this chair. 

"Just look at me." His voice whispers as he stands in front of her, big and looming and massively warm. "Forget the lights, the cameras, just look at me. You're Daisy."

She's Daisy. 

She tries to remember it, and when Jar Jar calls action she does as he says, she ignores everything except for him. Looks in his eyes, that were darker, more feral. These weren't Ben's eyes. These were Adam's eyes now. Dark, dangerous and intent on capturing her. 

"Tell me about the droid."

His voice was dripped with honey and she doesn't understand why it was so alluring, so sexual when he was the bad guy, the villain. 

"He's a BB-unit with a selenium drive and a thermal hyperscanner."

"And he's carrying a section of a navigational chart. We have the rest. But somehow you've convinced the droid to show it to you. You. A scavenger."

There was such arrogance in his tone, and she can't help it, she knows she must avoid looking at him but she's drawn, drawn to him. 

And there, on his face, was pain. In his eyes. Why? She tried to fidget, felt the well of tears that escaped her all this while. 

She was a scavenger to him. A nobody. 

"You know I can take whatever I want."

Fire licks at her skin, at her core, and she shuffles harder against her restraints, wanting to get away. 

His hand raises and hovers by her head and she flinches and looks away, gasping out a breath. 

She knew he was knifing through her memories, knew it was supposed to be painful and uncomfortable and she struggles, but his breath was hot against her skin. 

"You're so lonely, so afraid to leave."

The tears drip down her eyes, fear, frustration, desperation, just him, focus on him, focus on him, as she gasps and pants and struggles to get out of her bonds. 

"At night, desperate to sleep. You imagine an ocean. I see it. I see the island." His voice, so nuanced, so full on inflection, his warmth, his breath, his everything making her go haywire. 

"Get. Out. Of. My. Head."

He lifts up and away from her, moves to her front and her eyes meets his again, sees the confusion there, the arrogance, the underlying pain. 

"I know you've seen the map. And now you'll give it to me."

His lips quirk and she hates it, hates that he's right, hates that she will give in to this. 

Her eyes clash with his, and she feels it tingling from her spine to her toes. 

"Don't worry, I feel it too."

And her breath hitches in her throat, her eyes still locked on his, she can't look away, she won't, not for anything. 

"I won't give you anything."

"We'll see."

Something in her breaks at his words, the way she strains from her bonds, to get to him, get to him as he was getting to her, pushing, pushing against him. 

"You." She whispers, her voice breathy, as if... as if she'd been fucking him. 

"You're afraid."

She sees it, the flicker in his face, against the mask, against the arrogance. Fear. 

"That you'll never be as strong as Leonardo."

His arm crosses in between them and by now they were both panting, something elemental, something visceral in there. 

They don't say anything when Jar Jar calls cut, praising this cut, saying he has most of the shots.

She doesn't say anything when Jar Jar wraps, and she's strapped out and he walks out of set.

\---

Heaven can't help her now. She knows that. And this will take her down. 

But when she knocks on his trailer that night, she knows. 

When she knocks and he's sitting there head in his hands she knows. 

She knows it will end. 

"Ben."

Her voice was a whisper through the air and he doesn't look at her. 

His ring glints on his finger. 

He never took it off. 

"I'm married."

"Yes. I know."

She says as she closes the door to his trailer. Locks it.

"I'm happy with my wife."

"Yes."

She walks to him, stands in front of him. And he looks up at her, the fire and the pain and the wonder in his eyes. 

But she also knows this goes beyond that. They could be happy with whoever, but this was burning, this was raw, this was elemental. 

"You're fucking twenty two years old."

"I know."

She straddles his lap and he lets out a breathy whine but she keeps her eyes on his, as she slides up his leg, nestling his hardness against her core. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he leans his head back in his chair. 

"I have one condition."

"What?"

"Remember me, even after this is over."

That breaks him. He meets her eyes, fire and ice all at once, his hands gripping the sides of his chair. 

"Are you sure?"

"More than anything."

And she doesn't wait for him, she dips her head, and latches her lips on his because she would die if she didn't know how he tasted. 

He was warm, and soft, and supple, and he tasted on orange juice and Burts Bees chapstick. And it was so nice, and so warm and her lips sink into his pillowy ones, and her hands wrap in his hair and oh, they were so soft, silk against her fingers and he smelled amazing and she wanted to burrow into him and never leave until he opens his mouth. 

And she doesn't know what happens, because when the taste of his tongue touches her own, she loses control. 

Her fingers grip at his hair, her tongue whirls around his, her lips breaking off to suck at his bottom lip and she was grinding and grinding and grinding against him, and his hands are digging bruises at her hip, tracing up to squeeze at a breast before tracing up her neck to her jaw, tilting her head back so he can plunder her mouth and his hip grind up into hers, once, twice, thrice and she's breaking away from his mouth to gasp at air, because she was orgasming, in her panties by dry humping her co-star, and he only growls in response. 

"Fuck you're so sexy." He mouths as his lips trail down to her neck to latch and suck there and she throws her head back hands again tangling in his hair to press him closer to her, as she continues to rock against him. 

"Come for me Ben."

She grinds down harder on him, wanting to see him break, not wanting to admit that she watched his TV show, watched him fake an orgasm on screen and wonder if that's how he came in real life. 

"Come, Ben."

And he bites down on her neck as he groans, hips tilting up to hers before releasing her, skin, and leaning back in his chair chest red from the exertion and heaving.

"Fuck. Fuck."

He says as he tugs her to his chest, nuzzles her against his neck where she proceeds to lick and lap at the salt on his skin. 

She did this. She made him come. And the pleasure buzzed in her veins. 

It was wrong. But it was so good. 

\---

No one knew what they did.

To be honest she didn't know what they did. What this is. 

They don't really talk much about what this is. He'd come to her trailer, or she'd come to his and they'd make out and grind on each other until they both inevitably make a mess in their clothes. 

"Don't mark me." She hisses, after her make up artist sighed at her and told her specifically to warn her beau about hickeys on her neck. 

"Why?"

And she sees the familiar spark of playfulness in his eyes that she still marvels at, so divorced from the stoic first man Adam that he was known for in the set. 

"You-"

"What?"

She laughs in exasperation as he tilts his head back, looking at her from under those ridiculously gorgeous eyes and she rolls her eyes and presses her lips to his. 

"You're a baby, aren't you."

His hands tighten on her hips, dragging her impossibly close to him. "Your baby."

And he dives down, gleefully motorboating her small chest and she laughs, burying her fingers in his hair, kissing the top of his head. 

There was a small, short pang in her heart when he called himself hers. 

For how long, she wanted to ask. How long are you mine?

"Do you want to stay with me tonight?"

He asks from in between her chest and she freezes in his arms. They haven't really progressed beyond second base. 

But his fingers trail down from her collar bone, brushing along a nipple, and hooking at the belt loops of her jeans. 

"Yes." She breathes out, as he kisses up her neck, licking at her ear before capturing her mouth in his. 

\---

They go to a small dive bar, for dinner and drinks. 

It's where she finds out his middle name is Bail. 

And she laughs as his ears turn red. 

"Benjamin Bail." 

He sighs and shakes his head before turning his cocktail - Tequila Sunrise in his hands. It was comical, that fruity sparkly drink in his hands that were bear like in size. 

She takes a pull from her beer bottle and kicks at him from across the bench she was perched at. 

"Did your mom hate you or something?"

"No. My mom's... well. It's her dad. Her adoptive dad. Bail Organa."

"Adoptive?"

"Yeah, my grandfather he... he wasn't..." He makes a vague gesture circling around his temple and she nods. 

"What does she do? Your mom?"

Ben sighs and takes a pull from his glass. "You are so very British, do you know that? And so fucking young."

She takes offense at that. If she was so young then why was he here, with her.

"My mom's a senator. You should have heard of her. She's Anakin Skywalker's daughter."

Okay. She wasn't too young to not know that story of that. 

She takes a double take. 

"Darth Vader is your-"

"Yup."

Well. Fuck. Bollocks. 

He grins at her expression and downs the rest of his cocktail before standing up and dragging her along. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree baby."

\---

Everyone knew about Vader of course. 

He was nineteen when he fell for Padme Amidala. The Queen of Hollywood in those roaring days. She was 24 and married to a famous director Sheev Palpatine when she got pregnant from her affair with Skywalker. When Palpatine found out he divorced Padme and aired a video he had of her and Anakin fucking. The thing is Anakin was seventeen when this happened. 

Padme lost her career, and the depression got to her. She died in childbirth which drove Anakin Skywalker mad. He then took on the alias Darth Vader, and swore to get revenge on Palpatine. The children - twins Leia and Luke were adopted by family. Leia to the distant Organa cousins from Alderaan and Luke to Anakin's brother. They did well for themselves, except when Luke decided to enter Hollywood and was confronted with his father. He was heavily addicted and a certified alcoholic at that point. He never got his revenge and died of an overdose a few years later. 

It was one of the biggest scandals to rock Hollywood. 

And here she was, repeating history. 

But Ben's lips were on her neck. He had shoved down her pants, and her underwear was torn, her hands raised above her head and bracketed with his own. His other hand tap tapping on her clit, as if she was a conductor and there was a message in Morse code he wanted her to receive.

When her orgasm hit, her hips bucked under him and she feels him smile against her skin, as his mouth trails down to mouth at her breast still covered by her shirt. 

"You're so pretty when you come for me baby. I wish you could see yourself. The way your eyes glaze in pleasure."

He trails his mouth down to her stomach before he lifts up the shirt and she's only too eager to help him remove it. 

He leans back on his haunches as she's presented to him, in her simple sports bra, and her boy shorts with God help her rainbow stripes on them and his eyes go positively feral and he pounces on her, his lips biting down onto hers. 

"You. Are. So. Fucking. Beautiful."

He emphasizes each word with a kiss and she laughs at the assault. 

"So are you. I want to see you Ben."

She pushes him, so she's straddling him, and lifts his shirt up and over him, his head getting caught as her mouth waters at the pecs and abs that this man possessed.

"Rey? A little help?"

His laugh turns into a grunt then a moan as she leans down to lick at his chest, and suck at his nipple.

"Rey. Fuck, let me see you. Please, baby let me see you."

She releases her hold on the shirt, moving down to kiss his abdomen that tensed at her lips and he grapples with his own shirt before going up on his elbows, meeting her eyes as she licks a line from his breastbone to the edge of his pants and he throws his head back in pleasure. 

"Pants off, please Ben."

He unbuttons his pants and together they struggle shoving it from his hips, tangling in his knees, until he toes it off and she stares at the monstrous gigantic thing that was straining against his boxers. 

Her mouth waters, as her hand ghosts over his ridge. He was so hot and so big. 

"Oh fuck me."

His hips roll up into hers and he smiles. "Oh I will. I so will."

She pulls his boxers down and his dick springs up to splay on his abdomen and with a moan she bends to press a kiss to his leaking tip and she loves the way he arches his hip up into hers. 

"No. Rey, if you do that I'll come."

She licks at the head, moaning at the taste of him there, so potent, so salty, so Ben. 

"No, baby come on, I want to be inside you."

His hand grip hers and he tugs her up to press a kiss to her lips, so soft. So gentle. So slow. Unlike all their kisses before. It was like being dragged underwater.

He gently flips her to her back, lips still caressing her as he pulls back, and strokes her hair back over her ear, and he's looking at her like that again. In that Ben way of his. With his eyes all soft, and dreamy. Looking at her as if she was so precious to him. His brow relaxes, and there's a soft soft smile on his face. 

And her heart takes a stuttering beat in her chest, before it falls, falls, falls. Because she knew from the first moment she saw him, tall and handsome as hell, that this will take her down. 

His hands snake under her sports bra and he takes it off, eyes reverently tracing her arched nipple. 

"Rey. Look at me."

His thumbs flick at both pointy ends and she bucks under him, eager to have friction against her core.

But she opens her eyes as his thumb and index finger twist her nipple and forces them to look at him. What can he see in her eyes, she wonders. Can he tell? Can he tell she's so in love with him already?

"Tell me you want this."

"Ben. Please."

Her hands clasp around his wrist, the sensation too much for her. 

"Tell me, please, baby."

She wraps her arms around him, draws him close, so they're pressed chest to chest, heart to heart. 

She smiles at him, at the way he softens under her touch and nudges his nose. "I want you Ben."

His mouth dips to hers, and he removes her underpants and presses against her, and it's beautiful, so beautiful. 

He rises up but her legs keep him close. 

"Baby I need to get-"

"I only slept with one guy."

His face crumples, a breath shuddering out of his chest. "Rey..."

She gets it. His wife. Of course he's slept with his wife. 

She lets him go and he awkwardly shuffles to his bathroom with his hard on. 

When he returns she just folds him into her, determined to forget that there was ever anyone before her. 

He was big, but she expected that.

She burned at his entrance, muscles stretching, accomodating his girth. 

"Okay?"

She keened as all her systems went into overdrive. She kept arms locked around him, her mouth seeking his as he sank more and more into her, and the burning gave way to a throbbing pleasure as she split herself on him. 

He sits inside her, unmoving as his hands rub at her sides, at her breasts soothing, soothing and her mouth drinks from his. 

She tilts her hips up and he takes it as a sign that he can move so he pulls out and thrusts, one fell swoop and her mouth falls open. 

Fire. In her veins, in her pussy, in her heart, in her very soul. 

He takes advantage of her open mouth to suck her bottom lip into his own. 

"Ben. Ben."

Her pussy clenches on his cock, as he drives in and out and then she was falling apart, shaking around him but he pays no mind. 

"You're everything, Rey."

He whispers harshly into her ear as he pumps in and out of her at breakneck speed and she holds on to him for dear life. 

"You're so beautiful."

His face buries itself in her neck as he reaches his own climax.

\---

She wakes with his hands in her hair, and his clothes scattered around her room. 

He has a smile on his face, and a look in his eyes. That look. 

His fingers were tapping a rhythm into her skin again. And she reaches out and twirls a strand of his hair in her fingers. 

"Good morning."

"Good morning."

"We're you watching me?"

He grins then, a full sunny smile and nuzzles her nose. "You're so beautiful I can't help it."

Her heart was so full, he was here, with her in the morning. Hers for as long as he allows himself to be hers. 

"I don't have anything to film today."

"Then let's spend it together."

\---

It's easy to imagine that this can be their life. 

He was at the stove, shirtless, in his boxers, humming to himself as he fries bacon and eggs, and makes pancakes. Just like that her tiny LA apartment comes alive. And it wasn't so lonely anymore. 

It's easy to imagine what it would be like years from now, with him and her and maybe a baby or two. 

It's so easy to imagine him as hers. God. It's only been a few months, how can she love him so fully, so completely so knowingly? How can she love him with the finality of death? How can she love him as if he was her entire world and not stolen moments and stolen memories?

How can she love him without knowing him fully?

"Tell me about yourself?" She asks almost in desperation, because she wants to be that person for him, the person who knows him the best. 

His person. 

"What do you want to know?"

He was a closed book and getting to know him was like pulling teeth out with pliers. 

"How was it like, growing up, with a senator for a mom and a celebrity dad?"

So she spent her time in the shower googling him. It was something she swore not to do because it felt creepy, and she wanted to treat her co-stars as people. But his grandfather was Vader and everyone seemed to know. 

His dad was Han Solo, a popular singer from the band The Millenium Falcon. His mom had been a groupie. It was a cute love story all in all. And then reality set in and she was busy as a senator, and he had been cheating with groupies and the divorce was as ugly as the love story had been beautiful. 

For every action, she thinks, there is an equal and opposite reaction. 

"It was... difficult. My dad was gone a lot, and to cope with that so was my mom. She finished law school, she settled down, became an adult. My dad couldn't. I remember fighting, and shouting. My uncle was my parent really. He was headmaster at a boarding school, he took me in. He channeled my anger into the arts. Got me in band, acting, anything to get the aggression out, to use other people's language to get my anger out. And then... I tried for Julliard. Didn't get in."

She couldn't imagine it. How anyone can reject him, so raw, untamed, so beautiful in his talent. 

"So you went to the military. Why?"

He shrugs and turns back to face her. "My uncle asked if I wanted to go to college and I didn't really like anything other than acting. So I was angry, I was lashing out, I had a dead end job as a receptionist at the boarding school. And then 911 happened and my nihilistic anger turned into a patriotic anger and my uncle thought it was good, have an outlet and a channel for my anger. Use it for something positive and push me into something."

He dishes out the eggs, the bacon, the pancakes, sets a plate in front of her, together with a kiss on her forehead, and then because she wanted to prolong this illusion for longer, she gets up and settles herself on his lap, nuzzling his face, pressing kisses to his cheek as he grins at her and slides a bite of bacon between her lips. 

"What happened in the military?"

Like this she pretends, she was just a girl, getting to know her lover. Just a girl and the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with. 

"I was a Marine. And it was good, for the most part. Except the parts that weren't. My SO was a sadist. His name was Snoke. He made us choose names because we weren't human, we were Marines."

He has such a faraway look on his face, so she clucked at him and laid her cheek on his, stroking her hands through his hair. He smiles again at her, he does that a lot at her, as if she was everything good and pure in his life, and she just takes away all the bad. 

"Comforting me baby? It's okay. It wasn't all bad. I liked the discipline of it, the having a purpose, having something to do and when to do it. Uncle Luke was right, I thrived under the structure and it channeled most of my anger. I was too tired to be angry and I was realizing that there was a greater world out there than your divorced parents."

He wraps his arms around her, nuzzling her ear with his nose and just holding her like that. 

"What was the name you chose? In the Marines?"

He laughs, blushes. "Kylo Ren."

She smiles at the absurdity and let herself hold him, and be held. 

"Tell me something else. Something you haven't told anyone." Something you haven't told your wife, so I'll be the person that knows you better.

He contemplates her words for a while... before turning her face so his eyes could meet hers. "When I was a kid, my dad gave me a toy sword, it lights up and all that, and I used to sleep with it, under my covers, imagining my dad was there to tuck me in. I never forgave him for leaving."

"That's why you couldn't leave your wife?"

He stiffens at the question, a sharp needle poking at the delicate bubble they have surrounded themselves in. 

His response was merely to capture her lips in his own, and take her back to bed. 

She never mentions his wife again. 

\---

Anything was allowed on set. 

As long as you show up on time, get to your mark on time and deliver your job. 

No one cares about your personal life, or what you do in your downtime. 

Anything was allowed on set. 

So even though she drives back with Ben, even though he comes in to her trailer and comes out mussed, even though her neck was bruised up and his back was scratched up, no one said anything. 

Ears are dead, eyes are blind, everyone just wants to do their job. 

It makes it easy to pretend. 

He starts sitting with her and Finn and Poe during lunch. 

He got comfortable, holding her hands under the table, sitting so close to her their knees touch, laying his head on her lap in between set breaks. 

Everyone knows, and no one knows at the same time. 

The set was a different world where everything goes. 

And so it was one of those afternoons, sitting in his trailer, her against the couch, legs spread wide as he sits on the floor, his back to hers and her nimble fingers puts his hair up in braids. 

His stylist was there, smiling at them. "We just want it poofy, and curly, just a standard braid would do."

"Like this?"

She braids a single corn row in the middle of his head and his stylist grins her approval. She continues to sort the makeup in her kit and Rey hums under her breath, braiding his hair. 

"Tell me something about you."

"You googled me."

"Something fun. Something you want to do."

"I love Twiglets. It's the thing I miss the most about the UK."

He swivels around so fast and stares at her in horror. "You like marmite?"

"Babe, I'm British."

He blanches and swivels back around his head dramatically falling on her lap. "I can't believe I've been kissing a Marmite mouth."

His stylist stiffens at the statement, but she's here braiding his hair, and she wants this, she wants this moment where they can openly talk about their relationship because that's what this is. This is a relationship. 

"Yeah, you've been kissing this Marmite mouth and you love it."

She tugs playfully at the hair she's braiding and he groans. 

"I feel so betrayed, and here I thought you had good taste."

"I watched you eat a skittle off the floor."

"Five second rule."

"You fished it from under the hotel bed!"

She loves it, loves the banter, loves the ability to have something that was just purely theirs. 

But she catches the horrified look of his stylist as she slowly makes her way out of his trailer as Ben continued to rave upon the disgusting aspects of Marmite and for the first time ever she feels like a dirty secret to be kept. 

She buys Marmite from the Tesco and slathers it on his cock that night. 

She sucks it off as she tried to forget the stain on her precious memory, of her and her lover, playing banters while chatting in between takes. 

\---

He takes her to New York the next weekend. 

"I want you to see my life. My home. Meet my uncle."

She gasps at that, this was becoming real, life on set was one thing, but meeting his uncle, who he loved more than anything-

"Ben won't he know..."

"He won't mind."

"But your wife-"

"Bazine's in Turkey, doing a mission for the charity. She won't be in New York."

It was the first time her name had been uttered between them.

Bazine Netal, of course she knew. She obsessively googled her, after the first night, that she googled Ben. 

Bazine Netal with her blonde hair and her icy eyes. 

Her harsh features painting an otherwise pretty face. 

Bazine Netal who went to Julliard with Ben. Who introduced him to fancy New York cheese. 

Bazine Netal who was Ben Solo's wife. 

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want me to meet your uncle?"

His eyes refuse to meet hers. But his hands fidget, his ring glinting there and it causes her heart to twinge in pain. 

"I want you to know me. And I want you to know where I came from. In the same way I want to know you."

He doesn't say those three words. But she knows.

\---

In hindsight she should have expected this. 

She's tangled up with him, her nose in his neck, his arms wrapped tight around her, his legs pinning her down to the bed, as if she was the one to leave in the morning. 

She doesn't sleep. 

"My wife... Bazine is coming to visit tomorrow." He whispers in their cocoon of desperate touches and stolen kisses, the marker of time running out. 

"I know."

She doesn't ask if he'll return to her because she knows he will. She knew when this started, that it was going to end, that he was never going to leave his wife. 

"Tonight's the last night then? It's been fun." She tries to play it off casually, as if she hasn't fucked her married co-star. As if she didn't fall head over heels in love with him. As if she didn't jeopardize her entire career. 

"Rey, don't do this." His hands tug her face up and his eyes meet hers, and he searches her face, but she makes sure it's a mask, shuttered and unreadable. 

"Don't do what? We always knew it would end. I never imagined marriage and baby carriages. It's a fuck, Ben. You scratch mine, I scratch yours. And now it's done. No hard feelings."

His mouth twists in anger and his hands grip her, hard enough to bruise. 

"It wasn't just a fuck, Rey. Not for me. How can you say that?"

She shrugs, determined to not lose this cool facade, determined not to lash out at him and tell him everything she really wanted to say. 

That he was a coward. That if he loved her he should leave his wife. That he was a motherfucking heart breaker who doesn't know what he wants, and he can't have his cake and eat it too. 

But she just runs a finger down his cheek and smiles. 

"You don't need to pretend it was more than what it was Ben. We had a good time. You dicked me down, and I came from it. It's all good."

The rest of her words drown when his mouth swoops down to her, kissing her in a bruising, angry kiss. 

He pushes her on to her back, roughly, forecefully that for a second she feared this big man coming at her with a hard thing that can cause damage. 

The hard thing that slid inside her without preamble and is now rutting the fuck out of her. 

"Is this what you thought we were, Rey?"

He grips her thighs, spreads it up and out, so he has more space to plow into her. 

"Is this all we were to you? A dirty fuck?"

She can't speak, she can't say anything, the pleasure too acute, the heartbreak too fresh and if this is all she'd get from her lover she wanted to take it. 

She shatters around him, and he forcefully hefts her up and crushes her into his arms, still rutting up into her. 

"Ben. Oh fuck, Ben, it's too sensitive, please."

But he doesn't listen, instead he holds her tighter so that she has no choice but to mold herself against his chest, his heartbeat thundering in her ears. 

"Ben."

He pushes into her, and he's buried in her so deep she wondered where he was poking and he comes inside of her, she feels him fill her with him, once, twice, thrice, that she was so full of him it's a wonder she didn't burst.

It's only then she realizes they don't have a condom on. 

He keeps holding her even as he softens inside of her, even as he slips out and his come is running down her thighs. 

"You're not a fuck to me."

He breathes it against her ear, refusing to let her go, holding her, just holding her. 

"You were never just a fuck to me."

She closes her eyes, because she can't look at him. Can't look at him when she damns the both of them to hell. 

"Then tell me Ben."

He shudders, at her permission, granted at last. A permission she has denied him for this very reason. 

"I love you, Rey."

He wasn't a poetic man. He sang Happy Birthday for his Julliard audition for crying out loud. 

But those three words were every poem, every song and ever sonnet. 

"How many did you love before me?"

His lips kiss the curve of her neck. "None." He breathes on to her skin. 

"And after me?"

He pulls back now, his lips kissing over her eyes and she opens them, allowing herself to see the truth in the way tears gather at his eyes, in the way the smile quivers on his lips, in the gentle, gentle way he holds her face, brushes his thumbs against the wetness that gathered under her eyes. 

"None."

And he kisses her, soft, and slow, like they have all the time in the world. 

\---

He comes to her in the middle of the night, a crazed look on his face, his feet bare, his hair a nest. 

"Ben-"

"I can't do it. I can't... I can't... Rey."

She opens her arms and big as he was, he fits inside her, as if he belonged there all this while. 

"I love you." He whispers as if loving her was enough, as if it was the solution to all their issues, as if by saying it his wife won't be here with him.

"Then love me."

And it's different now, because he's slow, and he undresses her as if she was fragile and breakable. And his lips sip from her own, his kisses butterfly flutters on her skin and when she reaches for the condoms she kept in her drawer he shakes his head. 

"I haven't touched anyone but you since we started."

That was six months ago. 

He hasn't touched his wife in six months. 

And so she lets him love her raw, and come inside of her, and after she holds him, and he doesn't pull out of her, wanting to connect with her, and be with her. 

"Where's your wife?"

She doesn't want to break the bubble but he was here and it was 2:30 in the morning and he had a wife. 

"She left. I told her I couldn't... didn't have time."

"You didn't tell her."

He was silent, and she pulls away. 

Anger she didn't allow herself to feel eating away at her insides. 

"Why?"

Ben looks at her, in self misery, in confusion. 

"I don't want to be my father."

And that was the truth isn't it. He'd never leave her. He'd never let himself. 

They would still end, no matter how much he says he loves her. 

She feels dirty somehow. So she says nothing and rises. 

"Rey-"

"I want you to wear a condom the next time."

She walks to her bathroom to wash him off, and away, refusing to admit to herself as she cried that she had hoped this meant something else. 

\---

Iceland was a miracle. 

Iceland was theirs. 

Standing in the snow, huddled together for warmth. 

They were supposed to be fighting here, the final battle between the good Daisy and the evil Adam. 

But it becomes a dance, a romance, a falling. 

The moves become a choreography, a reflection of each other. 

He was her, and she was him and you didn't know where one began and where one ended and when it is over, when he is sprawled in snow and she heaving a breath and their eyes meet, it is not with hatred. 

It is with the love she cannot give him. 

The love he cannot accept. 

Jar Jar looks at the monitors, and the way they played off each other, and she knows it wasn't aggressive, knows it wasn't the battle he wanted. 

But Jar Jar smiles. 

Sometimes, you get what you need, even if you don't get what you want. 

\---

They stand at a precipice. The end of filming. The end of it all. 

His bags are packed and his wife waits. 

She smiles, and she thinks she succeeds.

It was always meant to end, it was always meant to not last. 

She kisses him, in the same way she kissed him the first time. With everything. And nothing all at once. 

"Remember me." She requests. Like this. In your bed, in your clothes, smelling of you, filled with you.

"Please tell me, Rey."

But she doesn't. She couldn't. 

She won't let herself, because if she tells him it's real. If she tells him, it means she's losing him. If she tells him this means this is a heart break, and not the simple goodbye she wanted. 

She shakes her head and walks him out the door. 

"Rey."

She waits, a beat, two, three. 

When he says nothing she shuts the door.

It was two days later, when she's at home, in her bed, with Rose, her foster sister and she was asked how filming was that she finally allows herself to weep.

\---

She sees him, he looked so handsome, if not for the weight he lost. 

Maz Kanata invited him and her into her house. To watch the film together, and though she wanted to refuse no one refused Maz. 

He was still beautiful of course. Though there were bruises and shadows under his eyes. 

He's filmed two movies and a TV show while they were on a break. He lost 50 pounds for one of them and it shows. 

When he sees her he drinks her in, like she was the last flask of whiskey for an alcoholic. 

She supposes she was, that's what they were to each other. Poison. A dangerous addiction. 

He sits beside her in Maz's home theater, his knee brushing her thigh, hot, warm, delicious. 

When she doesn't move his entire leg presses against hers. 

She stands, abruptly and tells Maz she needs the bathroom. 

She expects him to follow but it was Maz instead who's looking at her with a soft smile on her face as she splashes her own with icy cold water. 

"So I was right."

She doesn't bother pretending to not understand. If anyone understood it was Maz Kanata, who at the age of nineteen had an affair with Harry "Chewie" Chewbacca back when she filmed the first Battle Star in her youth. Chewie had a wife, and 2 kids. She called their affair a three month one night stand. 

"I would tell you to not sleep with anyone else in the cast. That often doesn't bode well. Don't go through the crew."

She slips past Rey and sits on the tub. 

"Whatever you're looking for, he's not going to do it. They never leave their wives."

She still says nothing. Not knowing what to say. 

"The belonging you seek is still ahead of you. But... for now. Just for now. While you still can. Love him."

"Why?"

When it would hurt her later. When she knows it would be useless to love him, because he'd throw it all back in her face. 

"Because you'd regret not loving him more than you would doing the right thing."

\---

She brings him home. 

And he sleeps in her bed.

Her house smells of him. 

He's there every night. 

And this was dangerous. 

This was beyond their set.

This was their real life. 

This was an affair.

\---

His ring was on his hand, and his wife on his arm. 

His eye catches her as she walks down the carpet, and there's that smile on his face, the same softening, the way his eyes light up when he sees her. 

But she doesn't look at him, she looks at his wife, who was looking at him. His wife with her blonde hair thrown back, her dress long and flowy. 

His wife who looks at her, and glares. 

His wife who knows. 

\---

She runs because she was a coward. 

She runs because she couldn't do this. Not anymore. 

This was danger and madness and mayhem. 

"I'll leave her."

He grabs her wrist. 

He pulls her into his arms. 

"I'll leave her."

He buries his face against her neck. 

"I love you."

And she lets herself believe it. 

Even though she knows, with the entirety of her heart, it was a lie. 

Maz knew. 

They never leave their wives. 


End file.
